


Soulbound

by BatuuPrincess



Series: Damerey Week 2020 [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Biting, Dominance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fighting, Reluctant Soulmates, Soulmates, but we're firmly in the enemy state here, vaguely based off Throne of Glass Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27282115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatuuPrincess/pseuds/BatuuPrincess
Summary: When Rey's first mission as a full fae warrior goes off the rails, her former trainer and commander Poe Dameron is there to bring her back from the edge. But a dangerous secret threatens to undo both Poe and Rey when faced with their foe.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey
Series: Damerey Week 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976626
Comments: 28
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I'm going to level with you. This was never supposed to see the light of day. I needed to knock the rust off after a break from writing and I'd been re-reading Sarah J Maas's Throne of Glass series, and this was an exercise to get me back up to snuff. But two years later and this story fit perfectly for Day 6's mythical creature prompt. So I took a chunk of what I'd written and created what I hope is a passable one-shot.
> 
> So I'm gonna warn you: this is weird. It borrows heavily from the Throne of Glass series' version of fae and systems of magic. Again, it's weird. I hope I'm not scaring folks off, but this is definitely different from anything I've written and I'm super nervous posting it. 
> 
> Anyway, I'll let you decide for yourself. I hope you enjoy some reluctant soulmates.
> 
> Update: A quick note. Since I've been convinced to expand this into a multi-chapter, I broke up the one-shot into the three chapters it was when I initially wrote this. That way, I don't have a giant 7k plus chapter followed by a bunch of 2-3k entries. Personally, I think that helps with the flow. Hope you enjoy!

Rey perched, perfectly balanced, on a wide tree branch waiting for her quarry. It had been seven hours since she’d so much as twitched, her thighs aching with the inactivity. All of her preternatural senses were on highest alert, waiting, waiting.

Thanks to that abnormally strong hearing - one of the many perks of being half Fae - she could hear every rustle, chirp, and buzz in the forest surrounding her, the knowledge of her solitude absolute. The loamy scent of earth stuffed itself up her nose, that sweet decay that you only found amongst the trees. 

One foot in the forest, that’s what the humans said about them, the Fae. Running her tongue across the slightly elongated canines, sharp as twin knives and so useful for staking claim or winning a fight, she couldn’t help but agree. Though as only half Fae, Rey supposed her one foot was only half in the forest. Always a little less than her companions.

In the distance, a mile or maybe two, a small brook babbled, the scurrying of field mice the only sound threatening to drown it out until the snap of twigs and drag of feet alerted her to her prey. Uh, quarry.

Her heart sped, either in fear or sweet, sweet anticipation, a battle brewing in her blood. Secretly, she loved it when those animal instincts took over, swallowing the human half of her whole. Just blood thrumming in her veins, a snarl poised in her throat, that utter lack of thought, a perfect single-minded clarity.

It happened as the man she’d been waiting for inched through the forest, taking care to mask his sound and hide his tracks as he made his way to the little town on the edge of the treeline. She shook her head. Human vanity. Like he could ever hide from one of her kind. His scent alone - reeking of fear and pride and all his human weakness - was enough to alert any immortal within a five-mile radius of his presence.

The dark tattoo on the inside of her wrist burned as if it understood the importance of the day. The mark of the unnamed, etched into her skin for eternity. Oh, if the other urchins could see her now. Her first solo mission for Leia and the Resistance.

Abandoned by a human mother, Rey had grown up wild, running with the packs of demi-fae left behind on the streets of Jakku to be taken in by the notorious crime lord Unkar Plutt. He collected their kind the way rich old men collected coin, using them as messengers and petty thieves, half-starved and always expendable. Most had barely a sliver of the gift, few with keen senses or the gently pointed ears, rarer still to find one with true magic running through their veins - fire or ice or wind to call at a moment’s notice - let alone the immortality of the true-born Fae. 

And Rey had been the runt of the pack, tiny and filthy and slightly more than half-starved, those elegantly pointed ears hidden behind a veritable nest of dirty brown hair. Completely ordinary and forgettable and alone. No one expected her to have a drop of magic, even Rey herself.

Oh, how they’d teased her. She had to fight twice as hard for every scrap she got, whether it be food or clothes or shelter or companionship. Life was cruel on the streets, and the children who lived there never let her forget it.

So when at thirteen she unleashed holy hell and froze half a city block to protect herself as her so-called friends turned on her, attempting to sell her to the nearest brothel for some quick coin, it was to the surprise of everyone who spent those early years knocking her down, reminding her of how worthless another half-fae bastard truly was.

She remembered none of it. One minute, rough hands were dragging her closer to Madam Elise’s, a new kind of hell awaiting, and the next soft hands, the hands of a mother, were checking her for injury, gently smoothing the hair from her face.

Three of those boys had died in the blast - or so she’d been told - frozen solid by the sweeping wind she sent out. Rey tried not to think about how it was only the three who had grabbed her, the ones growling about how pretty she would become, how they might try her themselves first, that had died, and none of the other bystanders. Like maybe, just maybe, she’d had more control over the blast than she cared to admit.

And those hands, strong and scarred and ancient, they weren’t a mother’s hands but those of Leia Organa, a former Fae queen and leader of the Resistance. It didn’t take much convincing for Rey to accept the offer Leia gave her. To join the cause, the only fight that mattered. The fight against evil. The fight against the First Order.

She’d given herself over completely. Maybe it was lingering guilt from what she’d done to those boys ( _children_ , her traitorous brain supplied, _they were just children._ ) but she’d spent the last 17 years of her life training under Leia’s coldest (and most sadistic, in Rey’s not-so-humble opinion) Fae warrior, all the blood and sweat and tears culminating in this very mission. Her first solo mission.

Only the most capable and strongest fighters among them were sent out like this, the ones who could stand on their own. And among them all, Rey had been chosen. The tattoo had been inked in honor of this day. To remind her of who and what she was. To show how far she’d come. To own it.

She was still young by Fae standards, and by human standards too, barely five years past settling into her immortal body at age 25. It had been strange to see the same face looking back at her day in and day out for the past five years, and it would be stranger still to see it stay that way for the next thousand or so. Never a crease, never a wrinkle, just the smooth, immortal skin of the Fae staring back at her.

It had never been a sure thing for her, the Settling. With her mother long gone and no father to speak of, they only knew she had some Fae blood. But how much? That was anybody’s guess.

Hells, she hadn’t even had a name until she stepped into the Resistance home base. Unkar Plutt had referred to her as “girl” while the rest of the children stuck with “runt.” It was her snarky ass of a handler who first called her “Rey.” As in, _what a fucking ray of sunshine you are_. It had stuck, and since she had never been all that great at spelling, Rey it was. 

But there were more important things than her name to worry about as General Hux, the man she’d been sent to spy on, continued to smash his way through the woods (all the while, thinking himself stealthy). 

Today’s assignment was simple. Wait for Hux to meet his contact and use those ears to get details of the First Order’s movements. _Do not engage. Do not make your presence known._

She scoffed internally at the repeated reminders from both Leia and her trainer-turned-Commander. Like she didn’t understand the consequences if she spilled First Order blood. Like she didn’t realize it would mean all-out war.

To this point, the conflict between the Resistance and First Order had been nothing more than a cold war, empty threats and covert operations with a dash of espionage thrown in for good measure. And under the immortal laws of the Fae, it would stay that way until blood was spilled. All it would take is a drop, a single drop of blood to touch the ground, and this uneasy detente would be over. 

Despite the icy magic flowing through her veins, she had a bit of a reputation as a hothead, one well-earned over the years she’d been with the Resistance. You could take a girl off the streets, but you couldn’t take the streets out of the woman she’d become. At least in Rey’s case.

So she trekked out here at oh-dark-thirty, finding the tree she was currently squatting in and spending the next hours blending in and letting her scent dissipate into the icy winds she brought forth. Not that Hux’s thoroughly human nose would be able to pick her out. But just in case.

A second man approached, covered head to toe in a black cloak, a very real and deadly power coming off him in waves. The darkness of his immortal scent twined with the flop sweat of Hux’s mortal one to create an unholy stench that left her stomach roiling and eyes watering. Rey swore in her head, hoping that the gentle breezes she’d summoned to blow away her scent were enough to keep her cover.

Apparently it was, as neither Hux nor his guest gave any indication that they knew of her hiding spot as they convened just inside the treeline.

“Hux, as loud and conspicuous as ever I see,” came the stranger’s voice, deep and hollow and laced with malice. He seemed to like Hux about as much as Rey.

Based on the rage lacing Hux’s scent, the feeling was mutual. “Yes, Ren. And you remain delightful as ever.”

Ren. _Ren._ He couldn’t mean Kylo Ren, leader of the Knights of Ren?

Kylo Ren was the most notorious killer in all of faedom. A demi-fae, like herself, he had the greatest and most terrible power their world had ever seen. A dark wind, gifted by the God of Death himself, that could cleave skin from bone without more than a thought, a death made all the more agonizing by the memories he fed on in the process. Dark, dark magic for a dark, dark male. Though it hadn’t always been that way.

He had been born into the right side of this war, his mother none other than Leia Organa. For a thousand years Leia had roamed the Earth, fighting the darkness that rose periodically. Then she’d met her mate, Han Solo, a human man with barely 30 years to his name. She’d given up her own immortality to spend the rest of their days together, aging gracefully as the years went on. 

And Ben, their only son, the greatest power seen in generations of a weakening bloodline, was the light of their lives. He’d grown up with everything Rey had not, love and light and life, every need cared for, every whim satisfied. And his power, a strong, rare magic, raw power that could be shaped as he wished.

But something had gone wrong. Whether it was his training or something corrupted deep inside him, slowly he had come to resent the family he had once cherished, the way they sought to leash his power, leash him. 

That raw magic shifted, and what once could bring fire or ice or winds or water, darkened. No longer could he bring about light and life, only death and corruption. When Han Solo saw what was happening and tried to stop his son, Ben used that new power to annihilate him. So the change was complete. Ben was now Kylo Ren, Commander of the Knights of Ren and the weapon of Snoke, Leia’s greatest enemy.

And here he was, forty feet away and utterly unprotected. Rey knew him, had trained beside him, practically grew up with him after joining the Resistance all those years ago. His weaknesses were as familiar to her as her own. All it would take was the closing of her fist to cut off his air supply, to pull the very wind from his lungs with her own power, and it would be over. 

“Do you have an update for me on the weapon?” That deadly voice sent shivers down her spine. Rey suppressed the very real urge to run, steeling herself for what she knew she must do.

Inch by inch, Rey moved herself off the branch, that phantom wind carrying away any hint of a sound. 

More than see, she could feel the smirk on Hux’s face. “Oh, so you do need me after--” 

His words choked off with a lash of that dark power, Rey’s own magic cringing at the oily caress. 

She took another step forward.

Beyond these trees, they were just beyond these trees, and then she could disable Ren, and prove to Leia - and her bastard of a commander - that she truly belonged with them. She reached out a hand, the tattoo stark against the pale skin of her wrist, slowly closing the fist that would steal the air from his lungs...

She had less than a single breath’s warning before an iron grip pulled her back, a strong, scarred hand covering her mouth before she could scream. 


	2. Chapter 2

Her spine slammed into hard, unforgiving muscle, those rough hands continuing to silently drag her backwards despite the way she kicked in protest. She’d know that scent anywhere, a woodsy scent like pine on fire, heat and flame and burning things. 

Back and back they went, well out of the earshot of the two First Order targets. Mission failed. She had no clue what the weapon was or where it was being kept, no hope of hearing from this distance.

When he finally let her go, Rey wasted no time turning on him.

“What the fuck, Dameron? That was my mission you just ruined!” Even royally pissed off, her notorious temper getting the better of her once more, she still kept her voice low. More than just their lives depended on them not getting caught by the two men in that small clearing.

For his part, Poe Dameron looked completely unfazed, possibly a little bored, as he leaned against one of the towering oaks examining his nails while her winds ruffling the near-black curls arranged just so on his forehead. “You mean the mission where you were specifically told not to engage? Or the one where you nearly got yourself killed with a reckless attempt at magic? Is that the one you’re speaking of?”

Despite the casual way he held himself, every muscle of his body was lined with barely contained fury, his endless rage simmering just below the surface.

Poe Dameron was a cold, immovable bastard thanks to the five or so hundred years he’d been walking this earth, honing those deadly skills that got Leia Organa to notice him in the first place. Her second in command, Poe had the sort of power and control that Rey only dreamed of, a well of immortal fire that he could unleash with barely a flick of his wrist. 

At 13, Rey had been instantly enamored, his long, dark hair and handsome face inviting enough to leave her lovesick and moony when Leia introduced Poe as the male who would train her. Ridiculous thoughts danced through her head, of fire and ice and the powerful attraction of opposites. At least for the first 15 minutes. By the time he’d finished with her that first day, there were no more girlish illusions, no more fawning daydreams, just an exhaustion that went deep into her bones, more than a few cuts and bruises, and a deep-seated knowledge that she hated Poe Dameron more than anyone else on this planet. Not that he cared.

Brutal, that was the only way to describe the training she’d undergone at the hands of Poe. From the first second, he’d treated her like a fully-grown Fae warrior and not a half-starved 13-year-old kid. No punches were pulled. But Rey took the hits and kept coming back for more. 

At least there was a grudging respect in Poe’s melted chocolate eyes, but it didn’t save her from the endless drills and sparring matches that left her powers guttered and skin bruised. Control, that was what he preached, control of the mind and the body as she’d slowly grown into the warrior she was today. It was thanks to her unrelenting master that her training had taken barely half the time of a normal Fae. Thirty was young, so young by Fae standards, for a first mission. Perhaps too young, judging by the utter failure this one was.

Always one to play with fire, especially when it came to Poe, Rey went on, ignoring the very real warnings in her former trainer’s body language. Something about Poe’s anger always sparked her own, like she was feeling for both of them. “What are you even doing here? This was my mission, Poe. I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

Poe laughed, the bitter sound opening a pit in her stomach. It was a very dangerous game she was playing here. “Oh really?” Poe stood to his full height, which honestly wasn’t much more than her own, advancing a step toward her. Instinctively, Rey stepped back at the cold rage simmering just below the surface. 

As she looked into that immovable beauty of the male before her, hair so much shorter than when she’d met him but everything else exactly the same, she once again marveled at the strangeness of their situation. Poe, so cold despite that immortal fire magic running through his veins, and Rey, forever hot-headed despite the ice and wind she could wield with half a thought. Two sides of the same coin, a perfect balance.

Almost like they were meant for eachother.

But Rey put that out of her head as Poe continued to advance on her, no less deadly for their complementing personalities. He went on. “Because that move you just tried to pull out there screams someone who needs just that. Thank the gods I was here to save your ass.”

A wicked wind whispered through the wood. “We both know I don’t need to spill blood to kill.” It was true. With her power, she could steal the air from his lungs. Ren would have been dead before he hit the forest floor.

Poe scoffed at the snarl on her face. “You really are that dumb. One drop of blood, Rey, that’s all it would have taken. You think they would have let that slide? That they wouldn’t have invoked the blood right? Even at thirty, you’re still acting like a child.” 

She bristled at the slight, but Poe wasn’t done with her yet. He advanced on her.

“Short-sighted.” Rey took a step back. “Rash.” And another. “Half-baked.” 

Rey surrendered a final step, her back fully pressed against one of the towering oaks. There was nowhere else for her to go as Poe’s face filled her field of vision, so close she could feel his breath on her lips.

His features twisted into a snarl, those elongated canines on full display as anything remotely human left his face. “Reckless to a fault.” Their chests heaved almost as one. It was the most emotion she’d ever seen him show, the most heated he’d ever been in front of her. “You could have exposed us all with a desperate move like that. You could have died, Rey. Without so much as a second thought from Ren, he could have ended you, ended this war before it even began.”

Poe’s face turned grim, almost sad as he continued to look at her.

Rey paused, blinking in confusion. What the hell was he talking about? She was no one, barely even Settled, too young to mean anything in the grand scheme of this war.

She opened her mouth to say just that, Poe cutting her off with a lazy wave of his hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. You’re dismissed. Go home, padawan.”

The insult landed, stinging with every syllable. Disappointment that wasn’t wholly hers beat with every pulse of her heart. Greenhorn, novice, apprentice, padawan. Words for what she’d been, a role she’d grown out of. That infamous temper roared to life even as he turned away, disgust outlined in all his features.

He never saw her coming.

Rey lunged at his retreating form, surprise her only real weapon against the immortal warrior in front of her. He knew all her moves, hell, he’d taught her every single one of them, so it was only that ambush that allowed her to get in one, two, three good hits before Poe started to defend himself.

Poe snarled at her as each of those strikes landed, teeth on full display. Rey bared her own at him, face contorted in rage. She was sure there was nothing human on her face either as they faced each other down, growling when Poe hit her in the gut hard enough to double her over.

Each breath sent a lancing pain through her stomach as she tried to recover, Poe giving her no time as he lashed out again. But she knew his moves as well; they were practically her own now. It was almost too easy to block and dodge.

It crossed her mind that perhaps she’d been holding back all these years, saving something of herself for a moment like this, because she wasn’t losing. Not by a long shot.

In fact, as Poe yielded another step to her advance, she thought she might actually be winning. Whatever that meant in this context. 

Distantly, she remembered the meeting happening in the edge of the wood, the unholy racket they were making in this tiny clearing, but it was all secondary to the fae in front of her and the consuming need to prove that she was better than him, even in some small way.

Though this didn’t feel like something small, not as they met each other blow for blow, the very trees trembling in their wake. As they moved, strands of her long hair fell out of the neat braid she’d started with that morning, same as Poe had taught her all those years ago.

_Hours, it had been hours of agony as he systematically picked every leaf and twig and bit of garbage (yes, garbage) out of that rat’s nest she called hair (his words, not hers), following next with a brush that threatened to rip every strand from her head._

_She’d cried and thrashed and whined like the child she was, until he finally took mercy on her and dunked her head in the bucket of warm water he’d had brought down especially for this. There, he tried to pick out the knots with those nimble fingers, more often seen gripped around sword or axe or dagger. But they were good at this, quickly finding all the snags in her so that the next time he wielded the brush, it was not such a fight._

_This had been the longest day of her life. Leia finding her, agreeing to train her, then the training itself at the hands of this immortal bastard, it was all too much as the tears continued to leak out of her eyes. She missed the streets of Jakku, her friends (though she didn’t really have any), the comforting familiarity of the alleys and gutters she’d grown up in. When she’d taken Leia’s offer - training and housing and food and clothes in exchange for the Oath, once she’d Settled, if she Settled - she’d expected to find herself a real home, with a found family and warm hugs, like the stories one of the older girls used to read to her when she was little._

_But what she got was handed over to this cold, immovable male, incapable of any of those things. Granted, he was more than capable of inflicting pain and scaring her out of her mind with flashes of that fire magic he contained so well, but hugs and family? Those were two words that would never be used to describe Poe Dameron._

_“Cleanliness,” he intoned as he dunked her head once more, now adding some sort of sweet-smelling cleaning solution that left her scalp tingling. Add preaching to the list of things he was capable of. “Cleanliness above all else. If your opponents can smell you a mile away, you’re already dead.”_

_Her cries had turned to sniffles by the time he was combing back her wet hair, not a tangle to be found in the long, brown locks. She hadn’t even realized her hair was that long - well past her shoulders - it had been too snarled and matted to tell._

_“Your clothes and hair will be kept neat. Sloppiness and messiness will just give your enemies something to hold on to,” he went on, those nimble fingers arranging her hair in a pattern. “Clothes should be fitted, but not snug, and hair should be braided back to keep it out of your way.” He paused, tying off the end of the braid. “Tuck it in when you fight. You don’t want to give your foes anything to grab onto.” With a long look, he demonstrated with his own long braid, tucking the night-dark hair into his fitted tunic._

_Rey nodded, tears still threatening to fall, as Poe’s dark eyes assessed her. Something softened there as he reached up, tracing one calloused fingers over the delicate point on her ear._

_“Are you sure you’re only demi-fae?” he asked softly, more to himself than to anyone else. Demi-fae, not half-breed, a slur most of the full blooded Fae she’d encountered preferred. But not Poe. Never Poe._

_She shrugged, knowing only what Plutt had told her. A human mother left her behind, fearful of the magic lurking in her blood from an absent father._

_She ran her tongue over the elongated canines that had dropped down barely a year ago. No one was sure what to do with her. Her bargain with Leia only made sense if she Settled into that immortal body, otherwise she’d be no use to the Resistance. Their work wasn’t for humans. Already, Rey was starting to fear the day she’d figure out if she had a place in all this or not._

_Poe seemed to sense it, an emotion she had no name for further softening those eyes. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, Rey. I, for one, think you’ll Settle.”_

There was none of that softness now as they stalked each other through the trees, but every so often over the years she’d glimpsed it, something almost akin to fondness softening those unforgiving eyes. It was always brief, so much so that she almost thought she imagined it, but then it would happen again and she’d realize that there was something more to Poe Dameron than the icy exterior and barked commands.

Never one to miss a thing, especially not Rey’s distraction, he struck, pinning her again the bark. Her breath left her in a rush, Poe’s hands keeping her against the trunk.

“Are you about done with this tantrum?” he asked, the sweat on his forehead betraying his own cool facade. With a shock, she realized he was struggling to keep a never before witnessed temper in check.

He hesitated a second at the smile on her face, loosening his grip a hair.

That was all she needed.

With a move straight out of Poe’s own playbook, she lunged, using the momentum to turn the tables. Poe barked out a cough as his own back hit the solid bark of the tree, a growl ripping through his throat.

She couldn’t hold him long, not like this. He was infinitely stronger than her. So she did the only thing that came to mind when he broke her hold, lunging forward to slam her into another tree: she bit.

It was a possessive mark, reserved for only showing dominance or claiming a mate. Those elongated canines sank into the soft flesh where neck met shoulder, Poe unleashing snarl from deep in his chest. Such an insult to be claimed like this by another, one of their more animalistic rituals as Fae.

There was a beat before magic and blood hit her tongue, a pulse of shock going through her at the taste.

One word echoed through her with each and every beat of her heart: _mate, mate, mate, mate._

A gasp told her Poe felt it, too.

Then she sensed it, as if a golden thread marked the path from her heart to his and pulled taut, a connection she’d always felt but could never explain becoming apparent.

She stumbled backward, the taste of his blood filling all her senses. Looking to his face, she needed to see the denial written there, that she’d somehow gotten this wrong, so very wrong.

But when her eyes met his, all she saw was fire and confirmation.

“How long?” she choked out, trying to dispel that phantom thread that connected them. “How long have you known that we’re...?” But she couldn’t even finish the thought. Apparently, Poe had no such compunction.

“Soulbound?” He sighed, and she realized she was still waiting for him to contradict her, praying for him to tell her it was nothing of the sort as he raised a hand to the twin marks on his neck. He did no such thing. “I didn’t know for sure until you’d Settled.” Rey’s chest clenched at the admission, the words he didn’t say just as important as the ones he did. Not to mention that had been five years ago, on her 25th birthday. “And then you were young, far too young to be thinking about fate and mates and all this nonsense. So I kept my distance, let you hate me. No, _made_ you hate me so there was never any confusion.”

His whole face had changed, like he simply took off a mask. Gone was the ice and indifference, replaced with warmth and understanding, a look of pleading melting those cold, cold eyes.

It was like she was seeing him for the first time.

“That’s why you never had a mate?” She backed up, Poe watching her like she was a cornered animal. And she supposed she was. “Because… I’m your mate?”

Of course. It made perfect sense. 

She had always wondered why a male like Poe Dameron - a fierce warrior, committed to the cause, and let’s not forget handsome as hell (she could admit that now) - had always been alone. There had been talk among the Resistance, a female love lost in a fierce war half an epoch ago. But always love, never mate. 

Fate had a funny way of operating.

The age difference would be enough, nearly 500 years spent alone on this earth, only to find that your mate, the one true love in your soul, was barely even Settled and a scruffy demi-fae at that. There had been no guarantee that she’d take after the mysterious Fae male that fathered her, no promise of a long life to spend with him. He must have been as relieved as she was when she finally Settled.

That string went taut once more as Poe took a step toward her, stopping dead when she scurried back two.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Anger rose in her, the winds surrounding them doing the same. Poe’s curls lifted off his forehead. “I deserved to know this!”

Silver ringed the edges of his eyes. Tears, she realized with a jolt. “You were so young. And I-” he cut himself off, pausing to rearrange his thoughts. “I spent 500 years looking for you and you were a child. You had no clue about love or mates, and so I made a choice for you. I decided that when you were older, once you’d Settled and you’d become that true warrior you’d always wanted to be, you should be allowed to choose who you loved. Even if that wasn’t me.” The miserable smile on his face threatened to break her heart. “I’d made it this long without a mate, what was another 500 or so years.” He gave a pathetic shrug that did more to tell her how much he cared than to deny it. 

He loved her. Rey struggled to wrap her head around that, even as the taste of him lingering in her mouth continued to muddle her mind. He loved her enough to spend a millennium alone, to move on to the next life mateless. To let her decide who she loved.

And still, with every unsteady beat of her heart, that word pulsed: mate, mate, mate.

She opened her mouth - to thank him or scream at him or gods knew what else - but a dark voice, slick and oily as the pits of hell, stopped her in her tracks.

“Please, don’t stop on my account. Half the forest is waiting to hear your reply to that declaration.”


	3. Chapter 3

For 10 whole seconds, Rey’s heart ceased to beat in her chest as she turned, her own eyes confirming her worst fear.

Kylo Ren stood in the little copse of trees they had done their best to demolish, the branches and leaves splayed everywhere giving silent witness to their fight. Leaning against one of those trees, Ren stood with a carefully studied casualness, so reminiscent of Poe’s earlier position she jolted. The practiced stance of a predator luring in his prey.

Every muscle on Poe’s body grew taught, that taste of him giving her an extra insight. Or maybe it was the years of practice together that put her so in tune with the warrior, his thoughts practically screaming across the little clearing to her. 

_ Run.  _

One word appeared, as if placed in her head by Poe. She took her eyes off Ren for a second to confirm that word written all over every inch of his face, the face of her mate.

Again that word appeared in her mind, and this time she was sure who put it there. 

_ Run.  _

That was… new, but not wholly unwelcome. In fact, it would probably give them an advantage in this fight.

Because if there was one thing that Rey prided herself in, it was never backing down from a fight. And she wasn’t about to start now.

Using that new bond, the thread that still connected them - heart to heart - she sent a single word back to him.

_ No.  _

She could smell the fear coming off him in waves, but she ignored it in favor of turning back to the monster in their midst.

Kylo Ren was watching the silent conversation between them with unmasked interest. Pushing off the tree, he scented the air. “Oh, he’s terrified for you. How can you stand the stench?” His face, not pretty by human or Fae standards, crinkled at the word. “Is he telling you to run in that silent conversation? Because, you probably should have listened.”

That was all the warning they got before he lashed out with that dark power, Poe barely having enough time to throw up a shield of flame before they were annihilated. Almost as quickly as it came, the darkness sucked back into Ren, Poe tentatively lowering the shield of flame, but kept his arms raised to summon it back in an instant.

In spite of himself, it looked like Kylo was impressed with the show of magic, though the look on his face begged why Rey hadn’t reacted at all.

Perhaps he didn’t know what magic she contained, that a wall of wind and measly ice would have little effect on the darkness he set forth onto the earth. She knew without looking that Poe was spiraling down into himself, working to strengthen his magic, bring it to the surface. She did the same, in case a shield of hard air would come in handy. Though, Ren seemed content to taunt them at this point.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asked her and her alone, Poe’s face darkening out of the corner of her eye. Ren turned to Poe. “But you do. Interesting.”

Despite the hatred simmering in her veins for the man in front of her, curiosity got the better of Rey. “What?” She looked from Poe to Ren, the former looking ill while the latter smirked.

Ren clicked his tongue. “Keeping secrets from your mate, now that’s bad form, Dameron. I’d have thought you too noble.”

She turned to Poe, still half crouched in his defensive stance. “What is he talking about?” she asked, hating the way her voice sounded. Weak, emotional, all the things he’d tried to train out of her these last 17 years.

But Poe’s lips remained sealed, all his considerable strength focused inward, on readying his power. 

If Ren knew what Poe was doing, he gave no indication, lips curling as he delivered what he surely thought was a killing blow. “Did you ever wonder how they found you? Why they found you? Why your training was so different from the other Resistance Fae?” He paused, a smile that held no mirth gracing his lips, showing his teeth. “Why this immortal bastard was so intent on confining your power?”

Something ached and stirred inside her chest, a long-forgotten memory rising to the surface. 

_ Rough hands that would leave bruises. The shrillness of her own screams as they dragged her. Then the world stopped as something unleashed inside of her, a careful tether broken as the pain and fear took over. Calm spread through her limbs, the boys nearly dropping her in surprise when she went limp. Tunneling down, down, down, deep into a well she had never noticed before.  _

_ Everything, she could sense everything here. The clouds high above, water flowing deep beneath her feet, a crackle of electricity in the air.  _

_ She found that invisible tether and pulled.  _

_ The ground rumbled beneath her feet as magic burst forth, raw and unpredictable.  _

_ Ice coated the alley, thickness measured in feet, not inches, and still dark clouds rumbled in as if Rey called them to her personally. And the boys, still alive but not for long, a dark stain spreading across the pants of their leader.  _

_ It was too easy to find those clouds, crackling with electricity, and tug.  _

_ For a beautiful, shining second, the entire alley was limned in white-hot light, the strikes hitting those boys and Rey at the same time. But while the lightning left her attackers in ashes, she absorbed her own bolt, the power inside her boiling over until it stole her consciousness.  _

No. That was a dream, a nightmare, not a memory. 

She turned to Ren, swallowing down her own horror. “There’s nothing to confine,” she said, feeling the lie in her own bones. “I have a bit of wind, some ice, that’s all.”

Ren smiled, like she’d played right into whatever plan he had. “Is that what they told you, Rey?” He turned to look at Poe as he said the next words. “Or should I say, Princess Skywalker?”

The snarl that ripped from Poe’s throat told her Ren spoke the truth.

Princess Skywalker. The Lost Skywalker Heir. But it couldn’t be, she was a bastard, an urchin raised by the streets themselves, no family, no name…

Skywalker.

She looked down at her wrist, the mark of the unnamed burning bright even in the dimness of the forest. 

The name settled on her like a cloak, wrapping her in that final truth of herself. Between the discovery of her mate and the truth of her parentage, this was proving to be an interesting day indeed.

And through that newly formed bond she could feel Poe, sorrow and guilt lining every inch of his soul. For hiding the bond from her, for making her hate him, for lying to her all these years. Rey tucked it away. She’d deal with him later.

“You know it’s true, I can feel it in you.”

She turned back to Ren, her cousin, she realized with a jolt. Kylo Ren was her cousin and Leia, Leia was her aunt…

No, she couldn’t think about that now, not when it hit her that Ren was expecting this to break her, to somehow turn her to his side, against Poe. Regardless of the lies and deceit, the thought repelled her. She could no more turn away from Poe than she could pull a star from the sky. 

But she could use it to her advantage.

Inch by inch, she let her control slip, allowing her hands to shake, her knees to wobble. Next to her, fear flared in Poe’s scent, the movement not escaping his notice. She blocked off the bond as best she could, only letting him see the very real anger and pain and confusion that thrummed through her blood. If this was going to work, she’d need to use his surprise as well.

Rey took a step forward.

She could feel Poe’s panic in response, the sick satisfaction in the man in front of her. Neither noticed her tunneling into her power as Ren’s lip curled like he knew he had her.

“That’s it. Join me. I can teach you everything the Resistance never wanted you to know. The prophecy, your heritage, the power that flows through those veins, I will show you everything.”

“Rey, don’t listen to him,” growled Poe, finally finding his voice. “He’ll say anything to turn you.”

She didn’t dare look back at him as she ignored his pleas. Intentionally, her voice cracked when she spoke to Ren. “Tell me everything.”

Ren smiled, the sight enough to turn her stomach. Looking down at the hand he extended to her, she took a deep breath, reaching toward him with one hand while the other closed into a fist behind her back.

The effect was instantaneous. 

Ren’s knees hit the ground as he clawed at his throat, no air able to pass to his lungs. Within five seconds his eyes were bugging out, white completely surrounding those near black irises. 

Thunderheads rumbled in the distance.

It was intoxicating, holding his life in her capable hands. She was so intent on watching him die, she didn’t notice when he lifted his own hand.

The darkness hit her full on the chest, sending her still-thin body hurtling toward the tree behind her. With a crack, the world went dark.

It could have been minutes or hours when Rey came to, though she would bet it was closer to the former as the whisper of flame reached her ears. When she opened her eyes, she found Poe facing off against her dark cousin, a controlled burst of fire burning away the darkness that lashed out at him.

Gone were the stone and ice she’d been subjected to these 17 years, replaced with actual emotion - pain and ire and fear mingling with the fierce determination etched into his face. She barely recognized him. It was like that mask, one he’d been wearing since the day he met her, had been removed. Like for the first time, she was actually seeing Poe.

And he was fighting for her. With every breath in his body, he was fighting for her.

There was no way he thought she was dead, not with the bond tugging and pulling her into consciousness. Every time he was too slow, every time Ren got past his shield, she could feel an echo of his pain flash across her skin from that dark power.

How had she never noticed this before? Had he been actively blocking their connection this entire time? It seemed like 17 years was a long time to never slip up.

Then again, hadn’t he slipped up? Those shadow emotions she caught every so often, the anger that so frequently sparked her own, they could all be explained by a slip in his control, the bond working as it should. And now, with his defenses completely lowered, she could feel every ache and twinge and hit, not to mention the fear that ran rampant through his system. 

Poe was flagging. She could feel it in the phantom ache of her muscles, the fatigue that wasn’t hers alone. It was that fact that had her rolling over with a groan, her head lurching so painfully she knew he could feel it. Blinking away the lingering blurriness, she rose to her feet in time to watch Poe cringe at that lingering pain, the momentary distraction more than enough for Ren to make his move.

Poe’s defensive flame was too late when Kylo Ren’s power reached him, the tendril of darkness caressing his face as if from a lover. Poe’s eyes were blank, some unseen horror playing out in his mind as the flames sputtered and died at his fingertips. 

Dark clouds continued to roll in.

Stunning clarity fell over Rey at the sight, the knowledge that Ren could break his mind without a second thought guiding her next move.

It was no effort at all to reach inside herself, to find that power she’d tunnelled for earlier, to bring it to the surface even as she reached heavenward for the energy she could feel crackling among the clouds.

One second, darkness spread through the clearing, threatening to put any living creature in its thrall, and the next their entire world was illuminated in white-hot light as Rey pulled the electricity from the sky.

When that force met Ren’s shield, they were all thrown by the eruption of power, the sound of it leaving Rey’s ears ringing.

Ren stood, a bead of blood welling just under his nose. Rey watched in slow motion as it grew heavy and slid down one lip and then the next, over the chin, where it paused before falling to be absorbed by the forest floor.

A single drop of blood spilled. 

Before she could think or speak or move, he was gone, vanishing into his own dark power with a snap. She looked over to where Poe had fallen to his knees, the look on his face echoing her own fear.

The war had just begun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey has questions and gets answers in the aftermath of her showdown in the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey! Welcome to the new and improved Soulbound. As I noted in first chapter, I decided to smooth the story out a bit by splitting the one-shot into its original three-chapter form. I apologize for the update spam if you subscribe to me, but this is the official next chapter!
> 
> Onward!

“Rey.” 

Poe’s voice was barely a rasp as he reached toward her, still on his knees. He threw it all into that one word - the pain, the longing, the guilt. Rey was unmoved.

“Get up,” she answered, watching as Poe flinched. His disappointment was as real to Rey as her own. “We have to get back and let the General know.”

General Organa. Her aunt.

But this wasn’t the place to unpack all of that. In fact, she was pretty sure if she stopped for even a moment to think about it, she’d never get up again. So she pushed it down, far as it would go.

Poe winced as he attempted to rise, the echoed pain shooting through Rey’s bones. She told herself it was self-preservation when she extended a hand, Poe taking it gratefully to get to his feet.

Where was looking at her with an actual expression on his face, not the flinty indifference she was used to. 

“Rey,” he tried again, desperation leaking into his voice. 

But Rey cut him off. “Stop. Stop looking at me with that expression, stop saying my name like that. Just stop.” Oh, she’d give anything to take it back, to have him call her padawan again, that silky smooth voice laced with disdain. 

With some difficulty, Poe schooled his face. It took a full 10 seconds before the old mask snapped into place. The sight of that disinterested face staring back at her did something small to settle her, to allow her to some modicum of normalcy. 

“You’re right, we need to move before the entire First Order comes down on us.” Even his voice had gone back to normal, the almost snappish tone that brooked no argument jumping out. “We can discuss this back at base.”

Exhaustion hit her like a freight train. 

Home. They were going home. Suddenly, the thought of the tiny room she called her own on base sounded like heaven itself. Oh, how she longed to fling herself onto the narrow bed, let all the lumps of the mattress dig into her back as she slept for the next 10 hours, uninterrupted. 

That much power, more than she had ever called to herself before, exacted a price. One that she was paying for now that the adrenaline had worn off. It was lesson number one for all wielders. Unless you were utterly prepared, unless you had a deep well of magic, that much at once could easily kill you or leave you empty and defenseless in the face of your enemy.

Drained. She was drained of magic.

“Rey?” asked Poe, that mask slipping once more to allow for concern when she wobbled, knees threatening to give out.

She tried to tell him she was fine, to snap at him that he was coddling, but all that came out of her mouth was an unintelligible groan before the darkness took her for the second time that afternoon.

_ Darkness, absolute and complete, curled around her, the oily feel of it against her skin enough to make her gag.  _

_ “You know it’s true,” claimed the voice, as oily as the darkness clinging to her skin. “I can feel it in you.” _

_ Fighting for breath, she scratched at her throat, the heavy darkness choking her, making her its own, and she was going down, down, down, threatening to drown in it. _

With a gasp, Rey sat up, her heart racing as she looked around the unfamiliar room.

Weak sunlight escaped through heavy, dark curtains, throwing shadows across the well-appointed room. The bed was massive, a four-posted monstrosity complete with the most comfortable mattress she’d ever had the fortune to lay upon. The walls were snug and warm thanks to the thick tapestries hanging there, and a large, carved desk sat in one corner, the body asleep in the straight-backed chair far too familiar to her.

Poe Dameron slept sitting up, chin touching the broad planes of his chest, but his entire body facing her where she lay. As a soft snore escaped his lips, something clicked in her brain, the scent she’d know anywhere practically stuffing itself up her nose. Woodsy pine and burning things. This was Poe’s room.

She chose not to think about the fact that his scent was so familiar to her that she didn’t even notice it at first. 

So this was what being a Commander got you in the Resistance. Not that she didn’t love the small, windowless room she called home in the bottom of the fortress. But this was something else.

Though maybe fortress was the wrong word. The Resistance base was a castle, the ancient stronghold of their people, passed on through the generations to their one-time Queen. In its former life, her tiny stone room had probably housed servants or maybe prisoners, though she’d never dared to ask. Better not to know that she was living in a cell.

The handful of times that they’d been sent out on missions together, when they had to bed down for the night, she’d always marveled at how different he looked asleep. This was her favorite Poe Dameron, the only other time (besides today) she ever saw that mask slip. Sleep smoothed out his granite-hewn features, softened him into handsome. Or, more handsome. The mask wasn’t half-bad either. 

Though at the moment, that face wasn’t quite smooth, his brow wrinkled in consternation. Like perhaps his dreams were troubling.

A throat clearing across the room startled her out of her thoughts. She must have been tired if she hadn’t sensed Leia Organa’s presence in the soft armchair beside her.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” said Leia, a small smirk playing across her lips. “You gave us quite the scare.”

Rey looked down her body, feeling for any injuries. 

Leia chuckled. “No, nothing physical. But that much power, released at once.” She gave a low whistle.

The events of that day in the clearing came barrelling back, the failed mission, the fight with Poe, Kylo Ren’s revelations.

Poe, her mate. Leia, her aunt.

A single drop of blood hitting the forest floor.

Rey looked up at Leia with fresh eyes.

First things first. “How long was I out?”

Leia blinked, obviously not expecting that to be the first thing out of her mouth. “Two days.” She nodded toward where Poe slept on, oblivious. “He tried to respect your wishes, but I feared for the safety of everyone in the Resistance when you were out of his sight. This was the compromise.” That smirk quirked at her lips again before dying at whatever crossed Rey’s face. “I’m sure you have questions.”

That was the understatement of the century. 

Rey looked over at Poe, his face now suspiciously smooth, body a little too stiff to be completely natural. 

He’d been so worked up - over her, no less - that he’d had to sleep sitting up, five feet away from her. Of course, she’d heard of such things, the possessiveness and protectiveness gone wild in the early days of a fresh bond, but she’d never expected her cold, disciplined commander to fall prey to it. This day kept getting stranger and stranger.

“How long have you known who my father is?” Rey watched as Leia’s face dropped even further before hardening into something she recognized of her leader. Resolve.

“I could scent him the moment I met you.” Rey’s chest gave a squeeze at the admission. So many years, so many lies. But Leia wasn’t finished. “And even if I hadn’t, the power you’d displayed in that alley 17 years ago would have told me enough.”

Rey nodded, choking down the rage and betrayal that threatened to suffocate her. “That power, it’s not just wind and ice.” Not a question, but she needed to confirm her own suspicions.

“From what we can tell, you have complete control over the elements. Air, water, earth...” She trailed off, giving another pointed look at Poe.

From what Rey had read, mated pairs could access each other’s affinities in certain situations, calling forth the power of their combined blood. She looked over at the male in question, still pretending to sleep in the chair.

Fire.  _ Her _ fire. Their fire.

“There’s no need to keep faking it. We both know you’ve been awake since the moment Leia spoke,” said Rey, quiet enough that they all knew she meant business. 

Poe’s eyes popped open, no trace of sleep on his face. Absolutely shameless.

“And you knew all of this as well?” The unspoken word continued to beat with her heart. Mate. Mate. Mate.

Poe gave a brief nod before rearranging himself into a more comfortable position. But there was still a tension in the way he held his body, like a tightly coiled spring just waiting for an excuse to bound forward. Waiting for her to take the first step.

Well, she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“What does this mean for my magic? Why can’t I access it fully unless I’m about to die?” Or if her mate was about to die went unspoken. Gods, there was more unspeaking than actual speaking in this conversation.

Poe fielded this one. “When we found you in Jakku, we took steps to make sure you couldn’t access your power until you were ready.”

“You bound my magic.” Again, it wasn’t a question. Across the way, Poe flinched at the lash of anger that shot through her. 

“Yes,” he said, very carefully. “We assumed you’d be able to access it once you Settled.” Rey noted the language. Once, not if. “But that time came and went, and it seemed like you were blocking it in some way. Perhaps to protect yourself.”

More unspoken words. Rey was sick to death of dancing around the point. “Because the last time, I killed three children?” They were all thinking it, Rey just said it.

A snarl ripped across Poe’s face. “Those bastards got what they deserved. They knew what they were doing.”

Rey blinked at his immediate anger, her own temper flaring in response. And yet, once that flash passed, something soothed deep inside her at his words. It was strangely comforting to have someone instantly and irrefutably at her side, no questions asked. But this wasn’t the time to think on that.

“So now what?” Rey asked nobody in particular. 

Leia answered. “Now, we prepare for war.” She stood from her chair, making her way toward the door. She moved slower and slower these days, her aging body catching up with her quickly. “Poe will continue to handle your training.”

That got Rey’s attention. “Training? I’m fully blooded.” And she was, winning the fight to finish her training, no contest.

Leia’s look of pity left an ache in her chest. “More power, more training. Based on what we know from that clearing,” Leia’s eyes darted briefly to Poe, “that magic is raw and lacking control. We need you to master it before sending you out again. For your safety and the safety of others.” She was at the door now, palm on the handle. “I’ll leave you. I imagine you two have a lot to talk about.”

She was gone before Rey had time to muster a nasty look.

Poe chuckled from his chair. “Few are brave enough to look at Leia Organa like that.” She turned that look toward her once-again instructor. Poe laughed again. “Fewer still look at me that way.” 

Despite the laughter, he’d kept those earlier emotions off his face, as promised. Though now that she’d seen how his face looked without that stony permanence, she couldn’t help but miss it.

Rey pushed that down with the rest. “This is your doing, isn’t it? She listens to you.”

“Rey, we both know that a lot has changed in the past day.” Again, the words not being said far outnumbered the ones coming out of his mouth. “What’s the harm in making sure you’re really ready before going out again?”

She blinked at him. It had always been demands and commands with him. Never before had he spoken to her like that. Like an equal. 

He watched her from his seat, seeming to realize what he’d just done. Waiting for her to break the silence. When she didn’t, he let out a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to, Rey.”

Whatever she was expecting him to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“Bullshit. This changes everything.”

“Does it? We’ll go back to the teacher/student, master/apprentice dynamic, I can help you master control of this magic, then we can part as equals and move on to the important thing: winning this war. We’ve ignored the bond for this long, what’s another century or two?” The mask slipped again, showing her the sad smile on his face.

Oh it was tempting, so tempting, to take him up on that offer. To ignore the bond and keep doing what they’d been doing since she arrived at the Resistance. But there was one glaring difference. 

“I bit you.” 

She watched those words hit true.

It had been meant as an insult, to show her dominance to the teacher who always saw her as a child, or so she thought. But the mating bond had been lying in wait. The sharp tug of it when she tasted him had told her everything she needed to know. Instead of putting him in his place, she had accidentally marked him as her own. She’d  _ claimed _ him.

“That does complicate things a bit.” A wry smile replaced the icy look on his face, his hand absently rubbing the spot where two scabbed over puncture wounds sat at the juncture between neck and shoulder. 

She focused on those two little marks, trying to forget the way he tasted on her tongue, how his scent filled her nose and mouth until there was nothing in the whole world but Poe Dameron. It proved impossible.

Sensing the maelstrom inside of her, he reached across the distance, hesitating a second to make sure she was ok with it before taking one of her hands. “Hey, we’ll figure this thing out together. Like I said, nothing has to change.” 

At the contact, a feeling of rightness took over so strong she flinched. A moment of hurt flashed across his face before the mask slid back into place, hand withdrawing.

There was no room for argument in his tone when he repeated, “We’ll figure this out.”

Leaving the comfort of his bed nearly killed her, especially as she traversed lower and lower in the castle, warmly lit hallways full of paintings and tapestries giving way to plain grey stone. With each step, his scent faded a little more from her nose and the warmth of his room faded from her skin. By the time she made it to her room, she was shivering from head to toe, another side effect of the huge expenditure of magic.

Gods, she’d brought lightning down from the sky. And it wasn’t even the first time.

That was what she chose to think about, the power not the rest, as she kicked off her dusty boots and fell into the narrow bed lining one wall. Despite the lack of windows and general dampness of the space, she’d done her best to make it homey. Plush rugs lined the walls and protected her feet from the cold stone. They weren’t the beautiful tapestries the upper floors of the fortress boasted, but they kept the chill at bay. A desk, old but no less beautiful for its scars, sat at the wall opposite her bed, a small collection of trinkets lining the corner. Her small bureau contained all the clothes she needed, pants and tunics and fighting leathers all vying for space. Somewhere, buried deep, was the single dress she owned, saved for the high holidays and other occasions deemed special by Leia. 

Too tired to dig out sleep clothes, Rey opted to simply lay on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling while waiting for sleep to take her. 

Power over the elements. It was the stuff of legend, the stuff of nightmares. That much power in one person was a recipe for disaster. Just asking to be corrupted. Look at Ben Solo. The raw magic flowing through his veins made him a target, left him vulnerable to the dark side and madness. And he fell. Would she be next?

With half a thought, she summoned a ball of wind and ice, small enough to fit in one palm. A parlor trick, nothing more, something she’d had control of since childhood. But how could something so beautiful be dangerous?

She dug deeper, finding the other elements inside her. The water was easy enough, nearly hand in hand with the ice affinity. Earth presented a problem, what with the lack of anything green or growing in her dungeon of a room. Plus, she wasn’t particularly keen on accidentally triggering an earthquake or something.

Then there was her fire. 

She supposed the fire wasn’t technically hers, more borrowed than anything. It was an odd feeling, similar to the phantom pain she’d felt in the clearing. A phantom power coursing through her veins, the heart of which settled around the golden tether connecting her to Poe.

Grasping that power, she felt the crackle in her veins, the same heat and temper that had always lived in her, thawing the ice inside. Interesting.

Different, so different from the rest of her magic, the fire was wild, unpredictable, barely under control. Some instinct drew her to the center of the room where she raised a hand, calling to that flame...

And it erupted out of her in a fireball that sent searing heat across her face, flames licking at the fabric lining the walls and floor. 

Apparently, not all magics worked the same.

Without thinking, she pulled all the water in the air to her, dousing the flames that left tiny holes in her rugs as her chest heaved. That was enough fire for one night, she thought as she finally changed into her nightclothes, hands shaking. She could have burned the whole fortress down with half a thought, left herself and everyone she cared about in ashes.

Maybe a little extra training wasn’t a bad thing.

When she finally dropped into bed, aching and shivery from even that tiny expenditure of magic, she was out before she hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm so excited that folks wanted to see more of this one!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
